


This.

by princedamianos (cuteashale)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Napping, Post-Canon, Tender Sex, capriweek2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteashale/pseuds/princedamianos
Summary: A kingdom or this. A kingdomandthis.For Captive Prince Week Day Three — Kings / "It was one kingdom, once."





	This.

Laurent slinks into their shared rooms in Arles and sends a narrow glare toward the afternoon sun spilling in through the windows. He is early; Damen hadn’t expected him to return until evening.

  


“Laurent?” He doesn’t say more. Laurent is scowling, two long fingers pressed to his temple as he seats himself on the nearest flat surface. His boots come unlaced through the halfhearted tugging of his free hand and he kicks them off to land along the far wall. He discards his crown more carefully, placing it gently on a nearby table.

  


“Close them,” Laurent snaps, gesturing to the curtains with a flick of his wrist. Damen stands to do so, tugging the heavy fabric together to block out the light. Laurent relaxes visibly, his rigid posture sinking into something loose and exhausted. He exhales heavily and tips back his head to rest upon the high back of the chair he’s in.

  


Damen’s fingers come to rest at his hairline and creep down to massage his temples. “That bad?”

  


“I’m beginning to understand your frustration with our policies.” Laurent’s voice is still tight, but his breathing comes easier now. Damen continues his massage.

  


“There is no one,” he says, “better equipped to handle those policies than you.” He bends and kisses Laurent’s forehead, earning himself the ghost of a smile. “Come to bed.” When Laurent cracks open one blue eye, Damen repeats himself. “Come to bed.”

  


Damen reclines in the plush of silk pillows, cocooned in a canopy of silk drapes that mute the low light. Laurent takes his outstretched hand and joins him, easily guided into position between his legs, his head pillowed on Damen’s chest.

  


“I can’t kiss you like this.”

  


“I don’t want to kiss you,” Damen says. Laurent is, pointedly, very quiet. “I don’t want to kiss you _right now._ ” Laurent’s shoulders tremble faintly. Damen, smiling wide into the darkness, says, “Stop it.”

  


“Alright,” Laurent says, after he’s finished snickering. “Then what do you want?”

  


Damen replaces his hands on Laurent’s temples and works his thumbs in slow circles across that thin skin. “I want you to rest. You’ve been at this for days. You’ve hardly slept—”

  


“I was not the sole cause of my lack of sleep, Damen.”

  


“—You’ve barely eaten” Damen continues as if Laurent hadn’t spoken. “You don’t need to push yourself like this.”

  


“I—” One of Damen’s fingers presses against his lips to silence him. He feels Laurent frown and then, almost an afterthought, kiss his fingertip. “Fine. I’ll rest.” He scoots down until his head is resting in the gap between Damen’s spread thighs. Damen looks skyward, eyes closing briefly.

  


“Are you comfortable?” he asks, amused despite himself.

  


Laurent's hands fold across his stomach as he closes his eyes and exhales heavily. “Yes.” Damen laughs softly and begins running his hands through Laurent’s hair. He’s gentle as he pulls carefully through any knots in those fine strands, untangling them. His petting continues until Laurent’s hair is fanned across his thighs, gold against bronze, and Laurent’s breathing has slowed to the relaxed cadence of one at rest.

  


The soft puffs of air that tickle his thigh eventually lull Damen into a doze. His rest is interrupted by the creak of a door and a low voice that only succeeds in saying “Your—” before Damen cuts him off with a sharply raised hand. Between his legs Laurent has stirred and made a soft, delicate noise against his thigh.

  


“Leave us,” Damen commands in a whisper. His hand shields Laurent’s eyes from the light of the hallway. “Clear the hall. Let no one in for the remainder of the evening.”

  


“Yes, your—Exalted.” The intruder bows and leaves, the door closing with a soft thud behind him.

  


  


xxx

  


  


Later, Damen wakes to the stir of arousal in his belly. The sun has set and the room is black. As his eyes adjust, Damen sees a shift of pale skin between his legs that is Laurent pulling his hair over one shoulder. It tickles his thigh, raising goosebumps along his skin.

  


“Good evening,” Laurent greets him, the hand he has slipped beneath his chiton the source of Damen’s arousal. Damen hums low, an easy smile on his face as he stretches and sinks further into the bedding.

  


“What a wonderful way to wake up.”

  


“Mm, yes. I’ve found you very agreeable when roused this way.”

  


Laughter puffs out of him, changing to a soft moan as Laurent gives him a steady squeeze. “You know what I like.”

  


“Yes. And you know what I need.” Laurent releases him and Damen accepts the weight of his body as it folds into his lap. They kiss, mouths lingering, open. Laurent’s hand finds purchase in Damen’s curls. “Thank you,” he says, softly. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed that break.”

  


Damen hums again, their heads pressed together as he strokes his palms up and down Laurent’s sides. “I didn’t either, or I’d have made you take it sooner.” Laurent gives his hair a playful tug, drawing Damen’s head into the curve of his neck where he is only too happy to press several slow kisses. He can feel Laurent’s confined cock begin to stiffen and kisses him even slower, tongue just touching the sensitive skin above Laurent’s collar.

  


Beneath his lips, Laurent shivers. His breaths become more audible and he starts to roll his hips against Damen’s stomach, seeking friction. Damen begins the arduous process of unlacing Laurent’s clothing. It takes an age but he’s become proficient enough that he doesn’t need to see what he’s doing in order to part the laces and place his hands on Laurent’s skin.

  


The fine fabric of Laurent’s undershirt lifts easily, allowing Damen access to the contours of Laurent’s abdomen. He traces his fingertips across firm muscle down to an even firmer cock, hot even under layers of fabric.

  


“Damen...”

  


Damen’s lips press together around the softness of an earlobe and kiss it. Laurent’s entire body trembles, his grip in Damen’s hair tightening nearly to the point of pain. “Damen,” he says again, head bowing forward. A mumbled string of Veretian heats the shell of Damen’s ear as Laurent pleads with him to do more than tease.

  


The laces of Laurent’s pants part, spilling the silken heat of Laurent’s cock into his palm. He strokes it delicately, thumb catching wetness at the tip and spreading it down the shaft. He does this again and again, as slowly as he’s able. Laurent’s breaths come faster, deeper, his grip shifting to Damen’s shoulders. “I want to taste you,” Damen whispers, then inhales sharply as Laurent spends himself in his lap. His own cock pulses, aching with the same desire to release.

  


Laurent keeps his face hidden in Damen’s throat, fingers clutching the back of his chiton. He’s malleable as Damen reverses their positioning and spreads Laurent out on his back. Damen kisses him once, slowly, then climbs from bed to clean his hand and light the fire.

  


Gold light illuminates the room, spilling across the bed where Laurent lies. The rise and fall of his chest is just visible through the gauzy canopy that surrounds the bed. One arm thrown over his head exposes a sliver of skin under his rumpled shirt where his other arm lies, fingers just slightly curled. His pants are still open and the soft curve of his cock rests against his laces, pink and sweet in a wispy nest of blond curls.

  


Laurent blinks sleepy eyes at him, his mouth a well-kissed curve. “Come to bed,” he says, echoing Damen’s words from this afternoon.

  


Damen lifts a hand to the laces at his waist. With the joining of their kingdoms came the joining of their fashion: Damen’s chiton has long sleeves embroidered with designs that come from Vere. Where a usually Akielon belt would help keep the garment in place, Veretian laces secure it instead. He will admit he likes the change. Certainly sleeves are necessary as Vere’s spring turns to fall.

  


Chiton discarded beside Laurent’s jacket, Damen crawls into bed. He tugs Laurent’s pants off fully and looks up to see the reveal of a long, bare torso as Laurent sheds his shirt and tosses it. They come together again, bare but for the gold of their matching cuffs, glowing in the firelight.

  


“I still want to taste you,” Damen murmurs, a delicate pink nipple caught in his mouth. Laurent moans, head back, his open mouth curled into a smile. Damen presses his laughter into Laurent’s skin between kisses as he travels a path down Laurent’s torso. Pale thighs spread wide to accommodate the width of his shoulders. Damen tongues the crease of Laurent’s thigh as his hand finds him stiff again, the flushed head of his cock dripping.

  


Laurent’s chest shudders with breath as Damen takes him between his lips. The bitter tang of precome hits Damen’s tongue as he bobs his head, taking Laurent’s length into the heat of his mouth over and over again. He luxuriates in the pulse of warm skin against his tongue as Laurent twitches, his thighs beginning to tremble with overwhelming pleasure.

  


Laurent comes with a gasp of Damen’s name, this time spilling into his mouth exactly as Damen wanted. He swallows, coaxing every last drop from Laurent’s eager cock until it’s spent and Laurent’s hands are pushing weakly at the top of Damen’s head.

  


“Enough, enough,” he mumbles in Veretian, chest heaving. His trembling thighs have fallen wide, splayed across the bed as Damen kneels up, his own erection jutting proudly from between his legs, well past eager. Laurent’s eyes drop to it and he licks his lips. Then, eyes briefly back on Damen, Laurent gives their bedside table a significant look.

  


Damen grins.

  


On that table sits a plethora of balms and oils that they have their pick of at any given time. Damen chooses their favorite and coats his fingers, working the oil between them to warm it. He comes to lie against Laurent and kiss him deeply as he reaches between his thighs.

  


Damen draws the sweetest noises out of Laurent as he coaxes his body open around his fingers. Three fingers in and Laurent starts to pant, his hips rising into each twist of Damen’s wrist. “Inside,” he says, breathless. “Inside, now. Damen.”

  


Pushing in feels like surfacing from deep water. Damen breathes Laurent’s name into his mouth as his hands make fists in the bedclothes. Laurent’s body arcs into his, chest to chest, his hands clutching Damen’s back and digging into thick muscle. Damen bows his head, curls brushing the hollow of Laurent’s throat as he thrusts in fully.

  


Beneath him, Laurent is shaking. Damen’s eyes open to find him flushed to the very tips of his ears, smiling. “Laurent,” he murmurs, and those sea blue eyes flutter open. “My love.” The endearment is said softly in Akielon, an intimacy shared between lovers.

  


Laurent raises a hand to touch Damen’s cheek. He draws him close and they kiss, sharing breath, sharing pleasure. Damen’s hips have begun to move on their own and Laurent’s rise to meet them until they are moving as one.

  


They come as one, fingers laced tightly above their heads. Laurent is the first to break their kiss and search desperately for air, his chin supporting the weight of Damen’s forehead. Damen moans into Laurent’s skin, murmuring ceaseless sweet-nothings in both of their languages as he comes down from the height of his pleasure.

  


He comes back to himself with Laurent’s fingers in his hair and Laurent’s legs around his waist. Damen opens his eyes and lifts his head, finding Laurent’s lips sweetly parted to accept his kisses. They share many of them before Laurent starts to squirm beneath him, thighs tensing as if guiding a horse.

  


Damen rolls to the side, dissolving the join of their bodies with a low groan that Laurent echoes. He props his head in one hand, fingers pushed into his curls as Laurent eases himself off the bed. He watches fondly as Laurent stands gingerly and walks away to clean up. It’s possible that Damen dozes while Laurent is away. When his eyes open, Laurent is back at his side sipping water poured from a pitcher across the room. He offers Damen the cup and he takes it, finishing the rest.

  


The silence between them is comfortable. Damen lies on his back now, sated, thinking idly about what they will have for dinner. Laurent is close enough that Damen can rest his cheek against his shoulder and turn his head to press the occasional kiss to his still warm skin.

  


“I think tomorrow I’ll suggest that Felicien retire.” Laurent has taken Damen’s hand in his own and holds it loosely, thumb stroking along a callus on his knuckle.

  


“Is it a suggestion if it comes from his King?”

  


Laurent tilts his head. “I’ll speak to him privately. His views are old-fashioned and divisive. Some of the courtiers vote with him because he has been around for so long, not because they agree with him.”

  


Damen lifts their joined hands to kiss the back of Laurent’s. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  


“You already thought of it.”

  


“Yes.”

  


Laurent looks at him. He’s not upset, but rather curious. Damen looks back and says, “I would never make your choices for you. We both saw that he was a problem. I knew you would deal with him as you saw fit.”

  


“You have faith in me.”

  


Now, Damen smiles, tugging Laurent’s hand until he turns on his side and comes close enough to kiss. “Yes,” he says against his lips. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I live for kudos and comments! Also come say hi on [tumblr](http://princedamianos.tumblr.com). I don't talk about captive prince nearly as much as I should with you all.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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